


Thomas in Wonderland

by Khadijalkubra



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety, Gen, Implied Logicality, Implied Prinxiety - Freeform, Inspired by Alice in Wonderland, Inspired by Sanders Sides, M/M, Other, Surreal, Thomas Sanders References, Thomas is in for a wacky time, We're All Mad Here, Wonderland AU, You get the idea, and Through the Looking Glass, body changing, breathing techniques, i'll leave it up to you, if you know the original stories, lots of refrences, mentions of beheadding, platonic or romantic, possibly, this is gonna be fun, writers block
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 16:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17686796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khadijalkubra/pseuds/Khadijalkubra
Summary: Thomas seems to have lost his inspiration, his creative drive, and in short has a seriously BAD case of writers block. Perhaps an accidental trip down the rabbit hole into a land of nonsense and madness will help him find that flighty spark he’s been looking for.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is more of a prologue than anything so it won’t be as long. Don't worry, if you know my writing than future chapters are pretty much guaranteed to be MUCH longer. Have a mad time!

Writers block. The bane of his existence and possible the only thing that Thomas hated even more than he hated bigoted jerk faces. …Okay he hated the latter way more, but writers block was definitely up there on the list, right behind mucky Florida heat and cold pizza. His current bout of creative block however was making its way up that list.

“Come on brain…think of things. Come on brain, be so smart,” Thomas mumbled to himself, disappointed he couldn’t even come up with something more original than a borrowed line from that Lin-Manuel Miranda vine.

He certainly felt like the embodiment of it though.

He had been sitting at the table in his living room for the past two hours. His laptop was opened to a mockingly blank page, a lined yellow notepad next to it covered in scratched out ~~bad~~ ideas, crumpled papers were scattered around him, and his Steven Universe mug half emptied of coffee that was cold by now. To add insult to injury, it was an actually nice crisp yet sunshiny autumn day and Thomas could only sit inside as the beauty of it mocked him from the other side of his living room window. The jerk!

He would’ve loved nothing more than to go for a walk outside or visit his friends, but sadly Thomas had a new script to write. Normally he and Joan were pretty good about keeping on top of schedules and they’d even gotten the last two scripted videos out in pretty good amounts of time. Which hopefully made up for that six month dry spell they both swore never to speak of again. However, Joan reminded him that a new scripted video was due soon and Thomas for the life of him just COULD NOT seem to come up with any new or exciting story ideas! It was like his creativity was wandering around a blank page desert and the oasis of is imagination had dried up.

“Say, that could make for a neat Sanders Sides video,” Thomas mused to himself perking up…only to deflate back down after realizing they didn’t have the budget for that kind of a green screen effect. “Besides, the sides never debate outside of my living room and moving them to a location outside of my house wouldn’t make any sense.”

Thomas groaned and plonked his forehead onto the wooden coffee table. Making videos and writing scripts used to be so much fun. Until it started being his job more than a passion. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was signing up for. He wanted this, and he knew he was luckier than most that he got to get paid for creating art and doing what he loved. Not that he and his team did it for the money. Except lately creating felt more like a chore. Not something eh _wanted_ to do but like something he _had_ to do. Like dusting, which was his least favorite chore. Creating felt like a chore! But he couldn’t let Joan or Camden or his wonderful famders down. So he needed to come up with something good…Thomas just wish he could feel that rush of wondrous joy and colorful excitement about his work again. He missed coming up with ideas that were so out there yet he felt a surge of pride every time they worked. Lately all his ideas felt, well, like looking at a faded rainbow. Which was sad as both and artist and a gay man…But deadlines were deadlines and he had to create something to post for the next video.

“That is if i could come up with something period!” Thomas sighed. “Maybe i need a break. Just five to ten minutes of something fun to get the ol’ juices flowing again. Something exciting…”

He looked at the very cold coffee with a pouted lip. _Or maybe I just need a boost from my favorite caffeinated drug,_ he thought. With that decided Thomas picked up the mug and got up to go to the kitchen. Before he even reached the entryway however, a flash of purple in the corner of his eye stopped him. It was from outside. Curious, Thomas went over to the window to peer outside, hoping to see what that thing was. Maybe it was a pretty hummingbird or something, he mused, on its way flying south for the winter. He squinted as he saw the bushes across his yard tremble and this time he caught the flash of purple as it popped our from the foliage.

Only it wasn’t a hummingbird. It was a rabbit: A black rabbit wearing a velvet purple waistcoat. Thomas did a double take. he rubbed at his tired eyes to be sure he wasn’t just seeing things after staring at a blank screen for so long. Nope. It was really there. And if that weren’t jaw drop worth enough, now the black rabbit was taking out a silver pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket.

“Well that’s not something you see every day.”

Too curious to pass seeing this delightful oddity up close, Thomas quickly set down his mug, pulled his white and black bomber jacket over his favorite faded circle shirt and slipped his sneakers on. He was out the door and across faster than you could say Jeemanetty. When he was a few feet away from the rabbit, who was paying more attention to his pocket watch, Thomas slowed down to a tip toe so as not to scare the rabbit off. As he got closer Thomas saw that there was an elegant storm cloud design engraved on the back of the watch. _What a cute little fella,_ Thomas thought to himself. _But where did he come from? How did he get a fancy watch and threads like that? Should I call animal control though?_ As he was debating this, something even weirder happened.

“Ah geeze,” said the Black Rabbit. “I am so late! He’s gonna have my ears and whiskers for this, along with the rest of my head.”

Thomas literally felt his jaw drop and his eyes bug out near cartoon level.

“You can TALK!?” Thomas shouted.

The Black Rabbit jumped at this voice. The silver watch shook in his trembling hands, the poor thing. He hadn’t meant to frighten the little guy. It’s just a talking black rabbit wasn’t something you saw every day, not even in the Bermuda Triangle of America that is Florida.

“It’s okay little guy,” Thomas said, hands held out carefully. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I just wanna talk.”

The Black Rabbit anxiously looked from Thomas to his watch and then back again.

“No time to talk,” he said. “I’mlateI’mLATEI’MLATE!!!”

And then quick as a lightning strike the Black Rabbit dashed into the thicket of shrubbery and trees. Without thinking about it Thomas ran after him.

“Wait, I’m sorry! Come back! Maybe I can help you,” Thomas called out to the purple clad creature ahead of him.

He chased the Rabbit through brambles and bushes, across lawns and through low hanging leaves. If Thomas had taken a moment to think he would’ve realized that there was no way he could possibly catch up to a wild animal, least of all one with a waistcoat and pocket watch, which was surely proof that he was smarter than the average bunny even without the talking. He also would’ve noticed that the hole that the Black Rabbit had ducked into was much larger than a normal rabbit hole and was probably dangerous if someone were to get too close. Most of all, had Thomas slowed down for a moment to think, he would’ve realized that when he left the house in a hurry, he had forgotten to tie the laces of his sneakers that he’d slipped on.

But Thomas did none of those things. As a result, what he did do was trip on his laces just after seeing the Black Rabbit go down the whole. And because he was so close when he tripped on his laces, even if he wanted to, Thomas could not stop to think now.

All he could do was scream loudly as he fell headlong down the rabbit hole into the unknown.


	2. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thomas takes a looong trip and tries some new foods.  
> So now, where were we? Ah yes…

_“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH”_

Thomas’s echoes screamed as he tumbled down the rabbit hole. Which if he wasn’t so busy falling he might’ve noticed was much larger than a normal rabbit hole might be. Not that he had seen the insides of many rabbit holes, but it didn’t take someone with a degree in chemical engineering to take an educated guess that most weren’t the circumference of a very large albeit dirt covered swirly slide. Nor were they probably as well lit or furbished with homey brick-a-brack here and there.

But then again, nobody in their right mind would be expected to notice these things while falling down said hole screaming their lungs out. So you could hardly blame Thomas’s momentary laps of attention to detail.

_“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH_ *cough cough * _AAAAAAHHHHHH”_

Thomas had never been so scared in his life. Not even that one time his uncle had taken him out on a fishing trip and they got caught in that rainstorm out on the water. He didn’t know how long he’d been falling but surely it was only a matter of time until he hit the ground harder than Wile E Coyote. And his body did NOT run on the kind of cartoon logic where he could survive such a fall. His anxiety was going through the roof and his voice was growing hoarse from his shouts. Plus it was dark and dirty and humid and oh my gosh, _why_ didn’t he just stay home!?

_“AAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaah?”_

Huh…jeez this tunnel is deep, Thomas thought. Now that he wasn’t so focused on screaming, Thomas had a chance to let his logic catch up to him. He realized that the less he panicked the more his decent slowed down.

_Okay Thomas, just remember your breathing exercises. In for four…Hold for seven…Out for eight…_ As Thomas worked to count, hold, and release his breath he felt himself slowing like syrup. His spinning body settled into a calmer upright position, and finally his heart rate was back to a comfortable comforting rhythm.

Phew! Taking a break from his tiring terror, the young artist got a look around him. It was dirt brown for obvious reasons, but for less obvious reasons he also spotted old-fashioned gaslights along the walls. As well as a half stuck leather love seat, a mirror, exactly three different pride flags and a toaster oven. One thing he did not see however was a pitcher of water, which Thomas wished was around because his poor dry throat sure could’ve used something to drink right about then. Oh! He just remembered there was half a packet of gum left in his pocket from his last run to CVS. _Too bad I didn’t keep the receipts, or else I could’ve made myself a rope to climb up or something._ Oh well. Thomas took a piece of gum and chewed on it gratefully.

As he coated his throat in minty sweetness Thomas wished that he had a wristwatch so he could know exactly how long he’d been falling. _I mean it’s gotta be a solid five minutes at least since I tripped. Stupid laces._ Thomas bent down to tie his laces so he wouldn’t trip on them into any more holes. That is _if_ he ever landed on solid ground again. The momentum caused him to flip around once or twice but eventually he made the two rabbit ear knots. Down and down Thomas went, yet still no sign of a light below or any below at all beyond the shadowy black. Who would’ve thought slowly falling down a hole for so long could be so _boring!_ Thomas hated being bored. Almost as much as he hated writers block, but definitely more than muggy weather. And he still had no clue what time it was.

“Such a weird thing to want while falling down a deep hole,” Thomas said. “A watch of all things. Then again, I’ve definitely had stranger thoughts…Have I always talked to myself this much?”

Before he could answer his own question, Thomas spotted a glint of something from below. A light? Or maybe it was a ladder or something useful. As he went down the item came up to meet him and he snatched it form the air. It was the silver pocket watch the Black Rabbit had on him.

“Poor thing must have lost it on the way down here.”

He opened the watch to check the time, only to find that the hands were not only ticking oddly fast (Thomas would’ve sworn it was the same counts as a waltz) but also moving counter clockwise. Well that’s a lot of help, he thought. Only now did he see there was also an inscription written on the inside:

_‘V- I go mad for you, every time. – R’_

Thomas wasn’t sure if this was meant to be a compliment or a weird threat, but either way it was clear from the inscription and well-worn look of the silver that this watch meant a great deal to the Black Rabbit.

“Poor little guy must be going nuts without it, especially if he was in a hurry for something,” said Thomas. “I’ll try my best to get it back to him. If I ever touch ground again, let alone— _Oof!_ ”

His whole body suddenly jerked to a halt, like how it did at the end of rollercoaster rides. Thomas looked down and to his great relief saw he was floating a foot above solid ground. A second later he was dropped down and tasted said solid ground.

“Ow…” Despite the taste of twigs and leaves that he picked out of his mouth, Thomas was relieved to have reached a bottom at last.  

It looked like he was in another tunnel- only this one was long ways and had a clear warm light at the end. Moreover, he saw up ahead of him a rather large shadow on the wall with rabbit ears and could hear anxious mutterings of, “I’mlatei’mlateafucki’m SO late! Where’s my watch, I’m so LATE!”

“Hey, Mr. Black Rabbit,” Thomas called out.

The shadow turned to his voice, ears shooting straight up, only to scamper out of sight. He really was a jittery little fella. Thomas ran down the tunnel in the hopes of catching up. Not only to give him back the pocket watch, but also he was honestly still pretty curious about where the Black Rabbit was going.

As he ran Thomas passed a few wooden doors and portraits of upside down selfies, but he kept his eyes ahead. At one point he saw the Rabbit’s cottony tail and turned that same corner. At the end of the hall was a door left ajar. Thomas opened it and found himself in a spacious room, nearly bare save for a round glass table and lamps along the walls. The Rabbit seemed to have vanished.

“Boy he’s really good at popping in and out of places suddenly,” Thomas said, scratching his hair. “But where could he have gone?”

Just then he spotted a spec of blue to his right: a small pair of curtains low to the ground. Thomas knelt down and pulled them apart. Behind it was a simple door with a brass handle and keyhole. This was getting curiouser and curiouser by the minute. He stooped even lower, practically laying on the wooden floor now and peeked through the keyhole. What he saw took his breath away and made him smile for the first time all day. Beyond the door was the most gorgeous garden he had ever seen! Filled with gardenias and tulips, roses and violets, sunflowers and daffodils…he really liked flowers. There were even ones in colors and species he didn’t recognize.

“Oh I gotta check that out! But how am I going to get through this teensy thing?”

Thomas stood up and walked around the room, hoping there might be another him-sized door he’d maybe missed. He saw no door but when he accidentally knocked his hip into the round table ( _Ouch)_ he saw there was a small glass bottle with a tag on it that read **DRINK ME** in Arial font, and a plate with a single large sugar cookie on it. On the cookie in pink colored icing were the words _Eat Me_ in lovely Cursive. It wasn’t every day that Thomas came across food that was so bossy. Then again, he hadn’t eaten or drunk much today, and he was no good on an empty stomach. He left the bottle alone because a) the font wasn’t too nice and b) the blue liquid inside looked like Gatorade but could also very well be poison or liquid drainer or something. He remembered what happened in Heathers.

The cookie on the other hand a) had a sweeter font and b) well, he’d always been weak for cookies. So he pocketed the bottle for later, took the gum that had long ago lost its flavor out of his mouth, put in in the wrapper (because he wasn’t a barbarian), picked up the big cookie, and took a bite.

Aaaand he immediately regretted it. Not because the cookie tasted bad, it was actually delicious. But because he felt himself getting slightly compressed and saw the room getting even larger, until Thomas found himself to be the size of an ant.

“Oookay. So big cookies here make you small. Duly noted.” Thomas turned to the door. “Say, maybe I’m small enough to fit through that door! Even if it’s locked, which it probably is and I didn’t see a key anywhere…I could probably fit through that keyhole. Ha!”

Thomas jogged on his teensy legs over to the door. He was certainly small enough to fit into the hole. Unfortunately he was too small to actually reach said hole no matter how high he tried to jump. Thomas gave a sigh.

“Okay new plan.” Thomas thought for a moment and then took the **DRINK ME** bottle out of his pocket. If the cookie made him small, then it stood to reason the drink might make him big. “Well, here’s hoping is not liquid cleaner.”

With 50% hope and 50% anxiety, Thomas uncorked the bottle and took a swig, downing the whole thing. Not that there was much to begin with. It was a small bottle after all. Thankfully it wasn’t poisonous; actually it tasted like grape soda. Also thankfully, Thomas felt himself being stretched big and bigger. Not so thankfully his head knocked into the ceiling. Now he was too big. Thomas groaned. At least now he knew what it was like to be tall. That was kind of nice.

“Okay, new-new plan.” Thomas took out the rest of the _Eat Me_ cookie and this time only took a nibble. “Take two.”

Thomas once again felt that compression like before. This time however, he was more like the size of a mouse than an ant. He jogged back to the wooden door again and this time found he could just reach the rim of the keyhole. He pulled himself up (good thing he’d been going to the gym lately) and through the hole. Finally he was on the other side.

“Woohoo! Thank you size changing snacks!”

His mood improved greatly with the treats and the new scenery. The garden was even grander up front than through a keyhole. So many vibrant colors, and the sweet earthy perfumes seemed to wrap around him like chiffon. Thomas relaxed for the first time all day. Still, he didn’t know where exactly he was or where the Black Rabbit in the purple waistcoat had run off to. What Thomas did know was that he had been very distressed about something and that he had the bunny’s missing pocket watch. There was still a chance that Thomas could help the poor fella, or at least give his belonging back to him. He could still do something. So Thomas moved on in the only direction he was sure of- forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so happy everyone’s enjoying the story so far, and i’m having a lot of fun writing it! Any comments or writing critiques are most welcome! <3


	3. Flowers & Floods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas gets trolled by flowers and has a good cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So last time, we were just entering a lovely garden…

Thomas couldn’t say for sure how long he’d been walking for, since, he still couldn’t decipher the Black Rabbit’s watch, but at best guess probably a good 15-30 minutes. He wished there was more of that growing grape soda. Not only because it would’ve been nice to get back to his normal size (being so small got to be pretty disorienting after a while), but also he was really thirsty from walking so much.

“Maybe Talyn has a point about carrying a travel water bottle everywhere,” Thomas said to himself. “But carrying it around gets cumbersome. Plus it always bangs against your leg    and then you get a little bruise on my thigh. Then again, if you had some water on you then maybe you wouldn’t feel so dehydrate and cranky now.”

He sagged a bit at his own reasoning, knowing he had a point. Was it worse to lose an argument with yourself or better?

“Well, at least it’s a beautiful day.” he mused to himself, trying to keep up his moral.

And it truly was lovely beyond that tiny door into this larger than life garden. The sapphire sky was bright overhead above the canopy of big grass blades, and the sun shone through the broad green leaved making them look like sheets of emerald. The soil beneath his sneakers was slightly soft, not enough to sink into and get stuck but it felt like a vacation for his tired feet. Clear drops of dew still lingering on the stems shimmered like crystal bobbles. Sure there was the occasional beetle crossing, but hey, at least there weren’t any spiders.

But oh, the flowers were by far the most beautiful part. There were so many different kinds, some he recognized others he didn’t. And their natural perfume gave off a heady aroma that was present yet not overwhelming. Their colors were so vibrant they almost looked like candy, yet Thomas could tell they would no doubt be velvety to the touch. And they were HUGE! True, that was only because he was tiny, but still.

Thomas sighed. “It’d be a lot more enjoyable if I actually knew where I was going.”

He still wanted to find the Black Rabbit, but only knew he’d come through this giant garden. There was no way else he _could_ have gone. If there was actually a path then Thomas was too small to see it. There was a chance he might’ve already been on it, but from way down to the ground he had no way of knowing for sure. Thomas had hoped that by keeping straight (heh) he’d eventually get somewhere, but there was nothing around that told him where anywhere was. No people. No signs. Nothing.

“It’s too bad I can’t just ask the flowers for directions,” Thomas said. “Bet they could tell me where I am. Not that flowers can talk.”

“Oi! Who says we can’t talk?”

“GAH!” Thomas jumped back, started by hearing a voice other than his own for the first time since the Black Rabbit. “Who said that?”

“Up here ya twat!”

“And over here.”

“And here.”

The voices had Thomas turning in circles. Finally he decided to follow the first one’s advice to look up and his jaw dropped. He was staring into the face of a petunia. As in the flower literally had a face with eyes and a mouth and all.

“Wha-was that…you?” Thomas asked.

“Well of course it was me, who else?” Judging by the pout and the way its petals bent to rest on its stem, it appeared to be a properly put out Petunia.

“And me!” said an Iris.

“And me,” said a Tiger Lily

“And me too,” said a Daisy.

“Me, me! Pay attention to me!” said a Rose.

Thomas could only gape as the flowers around drooped down around him, their eyes scrutinizing every inch of him harder than a live stream audience. One part of his brain told him to close his mouth and that it was rude to stare. Another part of his brain told him HOLY HECK! THESE FLOWERS CAN TALK!?!? He went with the latter thought.

“HOLY HECK, YOU FLOWERS CAN TALK!?”

“Well of _course_ we can talk,” said the Iris. “What ever made you think we couldn’t? That’s pretty presumptuous of you.”

“Well it’s just, flowers don’t typically talk where I’m from.”

“Umm why does this little sprout assume we’re all flowers?” said a Dandelion. “You don’t think weeds should be proud of who they are?”

“Oh! Well of course you can,” said Thomas. “I didn’t mean to offend any plant.”

Of all the things that had happened so far to Thomas today, this was by far the most curious.  Who would’ve thought that a bunch of would flowers could be so, well, mean? Still, they were the only ones around who could possibly help him, so he took a breath to calm his growing headache and put on a friendly face.

“Actually, I was wondering if you lovely, uh, flora could help me. See, I’m looking for a Black Rabbit. He passed through here and I have—“

“So what sort of a plant are you anyway?” asked the Petunia.

“It doesn’t look like a flower,” said the Iris. “Where are its petals? It’s not a _real_ flower if it doesn’t have colorful petals.”

“Its colors are so _dull_ ,” said the Daisy.

“Oh, uh, I’m not a plant. I’m a person. My name is Thomas and I—”

“ _Tho-mas_ ,” said the Tiger Lily. “That’s a pretty stupid name for a plant species, don’t you think? Why not be creative and come up with something more original?”

“Well that’s my name and I happen to like it. And I’ll have you know that I can be very creative, at least I think—“

“Do you really need to brag so much?” asked the Petunia. “It just makes plants like you desperate, fishing for likes and compliments.”

Thomas huffed. “Listen, I just need to know where—“

“That’s the ugliest flower I’ve ever seen,” said the Rose.

“Oh my gosh, I’ll bet it doesn’t even get pruned,” said the Tiger Lily

These plants were really getting on his last nerve. “Look I’m kinda lost here! I-I had a hard day, am super small, and I’d really like to get back to my regular size—“

“Well not all of us have a choice of whether or not we can grow bigger,” said the Dandelion. “Or even grow prettier.”

“Could you just _please—”_

“Yeah, that’s pretty selfish of you dontcha think?”

“Is this even a _real_ plant?”

“Maybe you should check your privilege.”

That was it! “GGNNHHAAAAAAAA!!!!”

Thomas ran away from the barrage of critical flowers as fast as he could. He didn’t pay attention to the direction, only knowing that he had to get away from all those harsh comments. He ran and ran through the garden until his aching calves screamed at him to stop. Finally he plopped down on a dirt mount in the middle of an open field to rest.

_Well that’s just great._ Thomas thought as he caught his breath. _Now I’m tired, thirsty, I’ve got a headache, those flowers were NO help at all, and I’m STILL lost!_ It wasn’t like like Thomas couldn’t take a healthy dose of constructive criticism, but those plants were being just would not let up with their mean words. Like what did he ever do to them? He could feel the stress of his day so far, from the writers block to the fall to now, building up so much that there was only one thing he could do.

Thomas let himself have a good cry, because gosh darn it, men could cry too!

He cried and cried, felt the teardrops billow over down his cheeks. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t at normal size, but he could feel the salty tears taking up more space on his face, as though they were Studio Ghibli style tears. Once he started, Thomas just couldn’t seem to stop crying. He felt silly for making such a big fuss like this, letting all those hurtful comments get to him even though none of it was true. The embarrassment of this only made him cry even more. Thomas was so in the throes of letting out his pent up emotions that he didn’t realize he was creating a puddle around himself. Which turned into a small pond, which turned into a sizeable lake, until finally the water was up to his shoulders.

“Oh no!” Thomas cried out. “Oh great, now look at the mess I’ve made!”

Thomas still could not stop crying, but he was in enough possession of his faculties that he started to doggy paddle so as not to drown in his own river of tears he was making. At least it wasn’t the ocean, although the water was certainly salty enough to seem like one. Thomas never did well in open waters, and the fear seemed to kick in the fight aspect of his anxiety. Thomas mentally pulled himself together enough that he was only sniffling now, and he focused his body to keep swimming.

After ten or fifteen swimmers strokes he realized that there was really no need to swim so hard. The river of tears carried him along smoothly, and he could just let himself float. It was a big relief and frankly one of the few helpful things that had happened to him so far. It was a nice change to get his bearings.

“Boy, I really let myself get carried away with all that crying, huh?” Hehe. Dad joke. “I’ve gotta say though, I _do_ feel better. I guess sometimes you’ve just gotta let it all out. And by the looks of it, I had a LOT to let out!

He only hoped that he hadn’t accidentally drowned out all those flowers back in the garden. Even if they probably deserved it, the thorny twigs. Last time he would let a bunch of attention seeking flowers get to him. And sure, he was still kind of lost and unsure of whether or not he was still heading towards the same direction as the Black Rabbit had been going. But at least he was still _going_ in a direction. Thomas was optimistic that eventually he’d come across the furry fella again.

_But I can’t keep floating along like this forever._


	4. Animals & Improv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas plays a game and says a swear word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *blows cloud of dust off this work that's accumulated since the last chapter* I know. It's been a while. Sincerest apologies. Apparently juggling multiple creative projects while also balancing personal life stuff is...trickier than I anticipated. However, I am VERY happy to be back with a new chapter. Especially because after this one is when stuff REALLY gets fun! I'll do my best to update more frequently, if not consistently since my posting schedule tends to get more sporadic than the Yellow King- I mean Red Queen's!- mood swings. (hehe, spoilers "'^///^).  
> Now then, back to our irregularly scheduled madness...

_Just keep swimming; just keep swimming,_ Thomas mentally sang to himself, even though he was not swimming but floating along rather peacefully. As Thomas let his body float along, he tried to keep a sharp eye out for anything he could use as a raft or flotation device. Or maybe a bank of dry land he could swim to. He still wanted to find the Black Rabbit, or at least a place to dry off.

“Come on, there’s gotta be a leaf or a log or somethi— _Oof._ “

The current made Thomas collide into something. It felt warm and soft, albeit damp. And the thing had a tiny hand clamped on the sleeve of his jacket. Oh dear lord _please_ don’t let it be a killer sea creature!

“Sorry man,” said the something that was not a sea creature. 

It was a rat with brownish russet fur that almost looked orange in the sunlight. Poor thing was soaked ear to tail; yet he seemed to not be very much bothered by their current predicament. Frankly Thomas was a little bit impressed by this rat’s very chill attitude. As for the talking factor, well, at this point not much surprised him.

“Thought you were a raft,” said the Rat.

“Oh, no I’m not a raft,” said Thomas, happy to find he wasn’t alone. “I’m a Thomas.”

“Hello. I’m a Toby named Rat. Or a Rat named Toby. Depends on the day, and today, I’m Toby.”

“Nice to meet you Toby. Just wish the circumstances were better,” said Thomas. “Say, _is_ there a raft around here though? Like a rescue party or something?”

“Dunno. Maybe,” said Toby. “What would a raft look like? Does it look anything like a rat? Oh I hope it’s not _made_ of rats, or that would be bad news for me!”

“Umm it’s like a big, wide, sometimes flat thing you can float on,” said Thomas.

“Oh, you mean like that?” Toby asked, pointing over Thomas’s shoulder.

Thomas turned around to where Toby was pointing and saw that, indeed, there was a raft. Not one made of rats, thankfully, but rather of tied together branches drifting their way. It even had a mast with a rainbow flag tied on top and flapping in the breeze. There even seemed to be a few other animals riding on it as well.

“Yes! Yes, exactly like that. We’re SAVED!” Thomas cheered. “Come on Toby, we can swim straight toward—

“GAAAHHHH!!!” screamed Toby.

“What? What’s wrong, are you alright?” Thomas asked, worried that the Mouse might be drowning.

“How can you _say_ such a cursed 'S' word?” asked Toby, clearly aghast but very much not drowning.

“What, swim?”

“No, no, that’s as harmless as a cat.”

“…Saved?”

“Not yet we aren’t. Come on let’s swim ahead. They seem to be meeting us halfway, you silly goose.”

“I’m not a goose, I’m a man.”

“A goose can’t be a man too?”

“…You know what? Never mind.”

“Can’t never a mind if you haven’t got the right kind.”

Thomas was _very_ confused but decided not to press the matter further. Goodness knows, he didn’t want to end up in a defensive argument again like he had with those mean flowers. So he and Toby swam forward until their fingertips touched the edge of the raft, which was indeed made out of wood and thankfully not rats. A shadow was cast over them, and Thomas looked up only to be faced with a rather large crab. Thomas might have been frightened of it under normal circumstances but by this point, the only thing that really would surprise him is if something relatively _normal_ happen.

“Well hi there precious,” said the Crab, in a sort of southern drawl. “Looks like you’re in need of some assistance.”

“Yes! Yes we are,” Thomas said, relieved.

He expected the Crab to pull both him and Toby onto the safety of their raft.However, they just kept a clawed grip on them as they bobbed along. After a pause the Crab spoke again, giving Thomas a pointedly expecting look.

“Yes aaand?” he asked.

“Um, yes and, I’d really appreciate it if you pulled me and Toby up onto your raft, please?” asked Thomas.

"Now that’s more like it sugar! Yes and sugar, I can certainly do that.”

The Crab pulled Thomas out of the water with one claw and Toby out with the other. Thomas was sopping wet and incredibly grateful to be on a solid dry surface again. He saw Toby shake himself out to dry his wet fur like a puppy would. Unfortunately Thomas wasn’t able to get dry that way, sadly, but he did take his shoes off and wring out his socks. _I’m sure nobody will mind_ , Thomas though as he pulled off his left then right sneaker, then his right and left sock, and then wiggled his raisiny wrinkled toes. There was nothing worse than the feeling of wet socks, no matter what world within or without of a rabbit hole you were in. It was just a universal unpleasantness. Hopefully the suns warm rays would help dry him off a bit.

“You can call me Mike by the way,” said the wide faced Crab, whose name was Mike.

“Thank you Mike. My name’s Thomas and he’s Toby—“

“I don’t believe you,” said another voice.

Thomas turned towards the source and saw a Dodo bird wearing a French Revolution style jacket and three point hat with a rainbow feather in it. Despite Dodos being extinct and probably being nowhere near France, this honestly wasn’t the strangest thing Thomas has seen today. So it was somewhat believable that one would be talking to him.

“Um, but that is my name,” he said. “My name is Thomas Sanders—”

“Yes, and I am Magenta, Captain of this vessel, as you can tell from the feather in my hat. And these are my troupe of buccaneers.”

The endangered if not extinct Dodo gestured a stubby wing towards the two other creatures aboard the raft. There was Mike the crab, and a Duck whose name Thomas did not yet know. Along with him and Toby, they were a queer group to say the least. (In both the old and new sense of the word, he would guess form the rainbow flag) Still, it cheered Thomas up to not be floating alone anymore. On top of that, the sun was finally drying him off. Thomas couldn’t believe his luck.

“I don’t believe it,” he said, with a grateful smile.

“Alright,” said Magenta. “Then I am Magenta, Admiral of this vessel, as you can tell from my macaroni. And these are my troupe of hostages”

“Wait what?” Thomas asked, thoroughly confused and a little anxious. _Suppose the reverse could be worse,_ he thought.

“Yes,” said the Duck. “And I am Brian, the senior hostage, for I am the oldest.”

“Um, I don’t believe you sugar cube,” said Mike.

“I am Brian, the newest hostage, for I am the most clever,” said Brian.

“I don’t believe you!” Toby chimed in.

All four animals looked towards Thomas expectantly. _Ohhh now I get it_.

“I don’t believe you?” Thomas asked, familiar with the rules of the game, now that he recognized it.

“For I am the dumbest,” said Brian.

“I don’t believe you,” said Mike, giggling.

“For I am the most gay,” said Brian.

“Yes and,” said Magenta with a solemn nod. “Although, it could always be gayer.”

“Yes and!” They all chimed together.

Thomas found himself actually having fun for the first time since he’d arrived in this strange place. It sure was a good thing he’d gotten better at improv since practicing so much with Joan. Maybe he could even use this as a way to get some directions. If not, well, at least they could keep playing until someone saw dry land. Hopefully.

“Yes, and I had seen a…white rabbit earlier today,” said Thomas.

“I don’t believe you,” said Toby.

Thomas grinned to himself, proud of how clever he was being. “I had seen a Black Rabbit earlier, but lost it.”

“I don’t believe you sweet pea,” said Mike.

“A-about the first or second half?”

“Yes and,” said Mike.

“O-kaaay, It was a black rabbit, and I was trying to catch up to him.“

“I don’t believe you,” said Magenta.

“…It was a Black. Rabbit. And—“

“I don’t believe you,” all four animals said.

Thomas groaned. “Geez, okay, well, I’m not going to change that part. Screw the rules. I am sticking to my guns with that, because it WAS a Black Rabbit and it ran away from me, and I have to find him because he dropped his pocket watch and I want to give it back to him.”

“Yes and,” said Brian. Thomas smacked himself on the forehead. “I saw a Rabbit shaped fellow earlier with black fur and a purple waistcoat.”

Thomas perked up. “You did!? I mean, Yes! And?”

“Yes and he was doggy paddling anxiously through the water, so clearly he was actually a rabbit shaped Dog.”

“I don’t believe you,” said Magenta.

“I do! I believe you,” said Thomas. The rest of them paid him no mind though.

“Alright then. He was a rabbit shaped paddle,” said Brain.

“Yes,” said Mike. “And he swam that gay, on his way to the Red Queen’s castle.”

“I don’t believe you,” said Toby.

"He was on his was to the Yellow King's castle."

"Yes and!"

Thomas let out a big sign and sat down on the raft as the others continued to play. This was getting ridiculous. He thought for sure he was starting to get on the right track, but then they had to keep imposing their own ideas into his line. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he didn’t like that what he knew was the right thing was being dragged so much you might as well call it left. At a certain point, even a ridiculous story line had to have _some_ truth and consistency to it. _I mean you can spell madness without sense…I think?_

Fortunately Thomas hadn’t gotten too deep into mulling this verbatim verses spelling conundrum. Otherwise he might have missed the very distinct strip of land that came into view over the water. And it was getting bigger and bigger, as though the mainland itself had drunken from one of those growth sodas. Either way, Thomas hadn’t been so happy to see dry land since his uncle’s last fishing trip.

“Land hoe!” Thomas said, pointing ahead.

When he turned towards the rest of the strange crew, they didn’t share in his excitement like he thought they would. If anything, the animals shot him a look that could almost read as judgy-wudgy.

“Now there’s no need for that kind of language sugar bean,” said Mike, his claws tut-tutting. “If a piece of land wants to be sex-positive, that is _their_ prerogative.”

“No, no not that kind a— I meant there’s land straight ahead.”

“G _AAAHH!”_ All the animals screamed.

“What? What did I say!?” asked a startled Thomas.

“How _DARE YE_ say the ‘S’ word!” said Magenta, his beady eyes glaring.

“Again!” Toby said, tail trembling.

“What would your mother say!?” Mike asked, aghast.

“She certainly wouldn’t say _that_ ,” said Brian. “A self respecting mother would sooner stick a bar of soap in her own mouth. That always teaches naughty mouthed boys a lesson in saying bad words.”

The others nodded in agreement.

“Wait…you mean ‘straight?’” asked Thomas. They gasped. “All I said was there’s land straight ahe—“

Another terrified scream. Brian looked about ready to faint.

“Now really, you all are being silly. There’s nothing wrong with the word straight.” They screamed again. “And we’ve got to steer this raft on a straight—”

Again they screamed, gasped, and yes even fainted. Those still conscious gambled about aghast across the deck or around the rainbow flagged mast. Thomas sighed and rolled his eyes. _And they call me a gay disaster._

“—coarse.” Thomas sighed.

This was clearly getting him nowhere, and he wanted off this raft. Fortunately the tide was on his side, and as the waves rolled them forward he could see that the water was just shallow enough for him to wade hip deep through. So he grabbed his sun dried shoes and socks, (held above his head of course because what would be the point of them getting wet again?) and carefully lowered himself off the side of the raft into the water. His feet sunk into soft sea soil but at least he could stand. Thomas would have said his thanks and goodbyes to the animals, but given their current state he thought better of it. So he simply started wading through the water towards shore.

At last, he touched dry land. Thomas took a full breath of relief. From his current vantage point, it looked as though he had stumbled upon the outer edges of a tropical island. With long green stems for trees, soft brown sand, and in the distance the greenery rustled with (he shuddered to think) the scurrying of animals or insects. But he reasoned that by normal Thomas-sized standards, it was probably just a regular garden. To think that his river of tears had likely been nothing more than a silly puddle problem, although it certainly had felt bigger at the time.

“Well that was the oddest trip on a boat I ever took,” he said, grabbing a blade of grass to towel dry his legs with. “At least it wasn’t boring. Now to figure out where I am…Probably would be easier if I was people sized again.”

Indeed, while crying himself a river had improved Thomas’s mood, it did nothing to improve his current height. He immediately regretted not saving some of that soda. At the very least, the silver pocket watch was still with him.

“Okay new plan,” he said as he put his socks and shoes back on. “Get back to me size, then find the Black Rabbit and give him his pocket watch back. He’s probably worried sick over it, poor guy…Guess I’ll just walk straight ahead till I find a path.”

If Thomas has strained to listen, he might have heard the echo of a queer troupe of animals crying out from across the water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's still stuck around with this fanfiction, it truly means a lot to me! And trust me, you're going to like what's coming next, because (spoilers) we'll finally be seeing the sides!  
> Starting with a certain necktie wearing blue caterpillar...;D


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